The Spears of Laconia (Purge of Babylon, Book 7) (17 page)

“The collaborators,” Gaby said.

Danny nodded. “They have no choice. Can’t just sit there taking hit after hit, not when your bloodsucking masters’ food supply is being bled out.” He peeked back at Mason and the others on the other side of the room. “It’s inevitable, and Mercer knows it.”

“He’s drawing them in, isn’t he?” Nate asked.

“Uh huh. I got the impression today’s running just as smoothly as he’d planned,” Danny said, returning his gaze back out the window. “They’ve been here for a while now, quietly setting all this up. Until today, they’ve been raiding the surrounding towns for silver and weapons. That’s what’s in all those boxes they’re transporting. Aunt Sally’s expensive cutlery and Uncle Bailey’s all-silver retirement pen. Mercer’s taking them somewhere else, because this place isn’t going to be very useful after tonight.”

“What’s going to happen tonight?” she asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

“This airfield isn’t designed to keep people out. To keep any
thing
out.”

She didn’t have to ask him what any
“thing”
was. She knew, and so did Nate.

They were silent again, watching as a couple of teenagers in tan uniforms dragged a heavy cedar trunk across the hangar floor, then lifted it with a lot of effort into the Army truck. The two leaned against the vehicle for a moment, passing around a single canteen that they both drank from. Neither one of them looked older than sixteen.

“I don’t see where we have any choice,” Nate finally said. “We play along for now, leave this place with them, then figure a way out of it later.”

He looked over at Gaby, as if for confirmation. She nodded, because he was right. There was no other choice. It was either go along with Mercer now or stay here, and she had a feeling their captors weren’t going to give them back their weapons when they said good-bye.

“He’s right, Danny,” she said.

“That’s not going to work, either,” Danny said.

She stared at him. “What aren’t you telling us?”

“Remember
Indecent Proposal
with Demi Moore?”

Gaby and Nate exchanged a look.

“No?” Danny said.

“I don’t think Nate and I even know who Demi Moore is,” Gaby said.

“Damn, I’m old,” Danny said. Then, “Long story short: He asked me to the prom, but he didn’t say anything about you two tagging along.”

“He just wanted you.”

“I told you. Special.”

“Well, crap,” Nate said.

“Uh huh,” Danny nodded somberly.

Gaby exchanged another look with Nate. This time it was he who nodded back at her, and she couldn’t help but smile. It was amazing how they could know what each other was thinking with just a look. Did she ever use to have this kind of connection with Josh? Or Lara, or any of the others? Maybe this was what it was like to be Danny and Will. One look, and they knew exactly what the other was thinking.

“You should go, Danny,” Gaby said. “There’s no reason for you to stay behind, too. Once you’re able, find a way back home. Nate and I will be right behind you as soon as we can.”

“I figured we might be a day or two late,” Nate nodded, playing along. “But we’ll all be back eating fish together by the end of the week.”

Danny glanced at Nate, then at her.

She nodded and pursed her lips into a smile, hoping it was at least a little bit convincing. “We’ll be fine. Look at this place; nothing’s getting through these walls. We’ll ride out the night, then follow you home.”

“Absolutely,” Nate said. “Who knows? We might even beat you back to Port Arthur. You never know.”

Danny rolled his eyes at them. “Give me a break. I was born at night, but not last night. I’m not going anywhere without you two dummies.”

“Danny, don’t be stupid,” she said.

“Have you been talking to Carly again?”

She sighed and shook her head. “Danny, you have to go. We’ll be on your heels by morning.”

“Not gonna happen, so save your breath. Both Lara and Carly would kick my ass, and that’s not the kind of threesome I had in mind.” He glanced down at his watch. “Besides, if they were going to kill us, they would have done it already. They want to keep us alive.”

“Why?” she asked.

“I guess we’ll find out tonight,” Danny said. He glanced back at Mason and the collaborators again. “You’ve been awfully quiet. Got something to say?”

“You should have taken the deal,” Mason said. “I would have.”

“See, that’s the difference between you and me. I’m not an asshole.”

“I’m a survivor.”

“No, you’re an asshole. If I have to say it a third time, you’re going to find out what a Danny Knuckle Sandwich tastes like. Hint: It’s knuckle-licious.”

Mason snorted but looked away.

“Good boy,” Danny said, and turned back to the window. “Speaking of knuckle sandwiches…”

A Jeep had parked outside the hangar and Erin, in the front passenger seat, climbed out. She walked through the building, past the half dozen people still loading up the final truck, and stopped on the other side of the window to look in at them.

“He wants your answer,” she said to Danny.

“The conditions still stand?” Danny asked.

“I’m afraid so.” Her eyes met Gaby’s gaze for just a moment before returning to Danny. “What should I tell him?”

“We’re like the Three Musketeers,” Danny said. “One cake for all, cake for everyone. Or something. I’m not very good with sayings.”

Erin gave him a confused look.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Danny said.

The woman nodded. “Good luck,” she said, and turned to leave.

“Erin,” Gaby said.

The older woman stopped and looked back at her.

“Do you know what’s happening out there?” Gaby asked. “What your planes are doing? They’re slaughtering civilians. Men, women, and children. There were pregnant women in those towns. There were over 400 people in T29 alone.”

Gaby was hoping for some kind of sign, an indication that all of this was new to Erin, but it wasn’t there.

She knows. Jesus, she knows.

Erin looked at Danny again. “If you change your mind in the next hour, tell the guards.”

“Not gonna happen,” Danny said.

“How do you live with yourself?” Nate asked her.

Erin ignored him and turned around and walked back to the waiting Jeep. Gaby wasn’t sure, but she thought Erin was walking faster than she really had to.

“She knows,” Nate said quietly.

“They all know,” Danny said. “But they’re committed. Heart, soul, and ammo.”

“What’s going to happen tonight?” Gaby asked.

Danny glanced down at his watch. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

“I was hoping for a better answer.”

“And I was hoping for a cheeseburger and some French fries the size of my wrists,” Danny said, “but we can’t always get what we want, kid.”

FRANK

“Why do you
fight?”

It was followed by a laugh, or something that might have been a laugh. It was hard to tell nuance when his mind was filled with so many voices, so many thoughts, like trying to listen to a city of people talking all at once.

“There is no victory waiting for you at the end of this.”

A sigh of frustration, like a father growing impatient with a child. Maybe that wasn’t so far from the truth. He was like a child, at least according to Mabry. They all were; he and the millions and billions out there that flowed from Mabry’s blood.

“They’ll never accept you.
She
will never accept you. Can you blame her? You’re not the man you once were. You’re not even a man anymore.”

He didn’t answer, because it was a trick. Like all the other times, the voice just wanted him to respond so he would reveal himself. Mabry knew he was connected, listening in, because there was no detaching himself from them. Oh, he could erect walls and build other mental defenses, but he could never, ever become separated. That was the strength of the brood, after all—the oneness.

“You’re just making this difficult on yourself. Why can’t see you see that?”

Push it away, into the back of his mind, where the voice became smaller. He couldn’t shut it out, but he could ignore it to some degree, send it to the outer edges of his consciousness where it was still audible but less demanding. Instead, he focused on the here and now, on remaining perfectly still and quiet, and allowing his body to heal.

He slept just beyond the reach of sunlight, though he could feel the heat even down here. Rays like knives, stabbing down at him, poking and prodding, always looking to connect, to slash and rend until he was just bones. Useless bleach-white bones.

There had been too many hands, too many feet, and too many teeth. They had hurt him, pushed him to the brink, but he had survived their onslaught the only way he knew how—by fighting, by clawing, by willing himself through the drowning sea. He didn’t know any other way but to fight.

It didn’t used to take this long to heal, but then he had never been hurt like this before. These days, the wounds closed a little slower, the breaks mended more deliberately, and the blood took longer to replenish. One of these days, he wouldn’t be able to heal at all, to regenerate all his losses, but that day was still far off.

His eyes snapped open, the dirt like sandpaper against his eyeballs. Something was happening. Something was…approaching.

A foot of earth separated him from sunlight. The heat called to him, even stronger than Mabry’s voice inside his head. As he lay there, resting in a tomb of his own making, the damp soil around him trembled as if coming alive. The walls shook, as did the patch of ground under and over him.

Had they found him? Had one of his defenses failed without him knowing it? Did Mabry know where he was and had sent his forces?

No, that was impossible. It was still daylight. He could feel it, like a lover calling to him. And he wanted to give in, wanted to embrace it like he once had, but knowing he couldn’t because doing so—

No, not ghouls.

Something else. Something…bigger.

It emerged from the city on wheels, close enough to his resting place that he could smell its leaked fluids as it lumbered. But it wasn’t flesh and bone. No. This was an animal made of metal. Hard, grinding metal.

He knew instantly what it was. Sometimes it was difficult to remember details from his past life, but this wasn’t one of those moments. He easily dug out the information from when he still wore a uniform, carried guns, climbed mountains, and took lives.

A tank. It was a tank.

*

The ground shook,
passing from the many particles of dirt that sheathed him. It came from a distance—from where the waves crashed against sand, beyond the city, and where the tank had gone.

Nightfall. He knew without having to see the darkness. The shift in temperature against his skin, the cold that seeped through the earth and folded over him on all sides like a blanket, were evidence enough.

Earlier, he had felt the multiple tremors as they emerged from their nests, growing in intensity as they neared his position. There were hundreds.
Thousands.
They passed overhead, oblivious to his presence. It wasn’t him they were after. No. It was the machine. The thing that had appeared earlier. The tank.

They were summoned, called forth by the blue eyes.
“Take it,”
the blue eyes said.
“Peel them from their metal skin.”

Another crack of thunder.

No, not thunder. A gun firing.

A cannon.

The tank.

The squeal of black-eyed creatures erupted inside his mind, surging across the connection that bonded him to the brood, to Mabry and the others. Their deaths were like sledgehammers, pounding against the sides of his skull. What he felt, Mabry could surely feel, too. Even more so.

He almost smiled against the dirt at the thought of Mabry hurting, feeling every death, every shriek of pain. If he concentrated enough, he could almost smell the sting of burning flesh as the black eyes vanished against the blast.

And yet they continued climbing out of the darkness and flowed like an unstoppable tide toward the beach. They were wary of the water, but the enemy had stopped just beyond the tides. Even so, the taste of ocean water lingered against their senses, terrorizing them with their possibilities.

“Take it,”
the voices said.
“They’ve already done too much damage. Stop them now. Here. Show them this world is ours.”

The voices belonged to the blue eyes. The ones leading the charge—directing the attack. They stood back, willing the black eyes forward like every officer he had ever known. Safe from the grinder and brave in their safety. He despised them, but was also cautious around them. They could sense him, just as he could them. He had to walk lightly, skirt around the edge, and never reveal himself.

It had begun while he was asleep, healing the cuts and gashes along his arms and legs and face. His concentration, his mental wall, always slipped when he was at his weakest, like he was at the moment. But Mabry hadn’t found him yet. No, this wasn’t about him. The creatures had not come here for him. They had come for the men inside the tank.